Fragments
by Andrew Nixon
Summary: VARIOUS DOCTORS. Just some more story fragments, all 'vintage' Doctor's.
1. Chapter 1

HUNGER PANGS

The 6th Doctor and Peri.

"That 'little blue frog thing' back there Peri, was an Axolotlotlolon…" The Doctor announced as he strode briskly along.

"An Axa lotta what a-who?" Peri managed to puff out as she tried to keep up with him, then she asked curiously, "So why did he say he was a 'Chirpy Cock-a-Knee Sparra'?"

The Doctor stopped short and looked down at her quizzically. "Yes, that _was_ rather odd, wasn't it? Made me quite dizzy, his constantly jumping up and down like that…"

He threw up his hands theatrically, as if banishing the thought. "But that's beside the point, Peri. What I was about to point out, is that the Axolotlotlolonians have never visited the Earth! Therefore we are _not_ on Earth, therefore we are _not_ in London!"

"I could have told _you_ that!' Peri protested indignantly, 'that Axle… that Axalolol… that little blue frog thing is the only, er… person we've seen! The place is deserted!"

The Doctor nodded as he resumed walking, continuing to follow the directions given to them by the Axolotlotlolon. "Yes, Peri… aliens are people too, and I concede that the streets of the genuine London are very rarely this deserted. Still, there could have been any numbers of Earth-bound reasons to explain it."

"Name one!" Peri challenged, beginning to feel distinctly irritated by his patronizing manner.

"I could name several, Peri.' The Doctor proclaimed airily, checking the names of side streets as he raced along the main drag. 'You're probably too young to remember, and it didn't happen in America… so it may not have made the news over there… But _I_ can recall a _number_ of occasions when London had to be evacuated - due to alien invasions! Let's see… the Yeti… the Cybermen… and of course, we shouldn't forget The Terrible Zodin…"

He trailed off again, looking a little puzzled, then shrugged it off when he saw the sign he had been looking for. "Ere, Bert, this is the place!" he exclaimed, for no apparent reason.

Peri, once more dashing to keep up with the Doctor's manic progress, had to backpedal rapidly. She found him standing with his back to her, hands on hips. "How very odd." He murmured softly to himself.

Peri just gawped, not sure that she believed what she was seeing.

"Umm, Doctor?" she ventured nervously.

The Doctor didn't appear to hear her, as he took a step into the street and gazed around. "How very peculiar, it appears to be evening all of a sudden."

Peri hugged herself as she glanced around the main thoroughfare, where she was still standing. "Err… it's still daylight _out here_ , Doctor."

"It is?' He turned around so sharply that Peri had to jump back to avoid being knocked over, as he leaned out to look around. 'So it is! That's _very_ strange indeed! I wonder how they do it."

"How who do what?"

"Well… whoever it is,' the Doctor stepped back out onto the main road, gazing intently at the clear demarcation line on the pavement, 'that is keeping it daytime out _here_ … and late evening down _there_."

Peri shivered. "What is this place, Doctor?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked, in a mixture of surprise and hopefulness.

"Not to me, it's not!" She replied in exasperation.

The Doctor looked crestfallen. "Oh. What a shame! I was really rather hoping that it would be…"

"Look Doctor, can't we just get back to the Tardis and go somewhere else?' Peri tried, even though she was pretty sure that she knew what his answer would be. 'This place is just too weird!"

"I think not Peri, there is a mystery to be solved here… and you know how much I like mysteries!

Besides… I'm still hungry!' With a slight bow, he offered Peri his arm, indicating down the street with his other hand. 'Shall we?"

As Peri got her first good look at 'Lycestershire' Street, unobscured by the Doctor's voluminous presence, she realized that it was fairly crowded with aliens of all shapes and sizes.

"I guess it's pretty popular then, judging by all these 'people'. I can't see any people like _me_ though." The Doctor didn't appear to be paying any attention to her. (Again!)

He was gazing up at the ornate signage on the first shopfront they were passing. He looked somewhat puzzled.

"What do you make of this Peri?" He asked from the side of his mouth, as he nodded up at the sign.

The calligraphy was extremely ornate, but it was the words themselves that took Peri by surprise. "Ye Oldey Englishey Fishey and Chippey Shoppey?"

"Hmm...' agreed the Doctor, beginning to stroll further down the road. "Quite! And here's 'Ye Oldey Englishey Publickey Housey!"

Peri, forced to join him in meandering along, noted that there seemed to be a preponderance of Mock-Tudor frontages on the buildings they were passing. But she was less interested in the actual names of the various premises than the Doctor seemed to be. Even though Peri had encountered many aliens in her travels with him – both of him – she found the sheer variety of amazing creatures here absolutely fascinating.

The Doctor was mumbling some nonsense or other to himself, when he suddenly startled Peri from her people-watching with a delighted cry. "Ooh, look! – 'Ye Oldey Englishey Tajey Mahaley'! Fancy a curry, Peri?"

"I think I'd rather have 'fishey and chippey's'." She grumped unenthusiastically.

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Later…)_

They had found a small park to eat their food in, having decided to leave the evening and eat in the daylight.

Peri had just sat down to unwrap her newspaper encased portion of chips, when the Doctor loudly exclaimed. "Oh my Goodness!"

Peri glanced up to see what he was fussing about now, then scooted away from the object that a rather bemused Doctor had just taken from his own newspaper.

"What the heck is _that?_ " She yelped urgently, slightly alarmed.

"It's a battered sausage!" said the Doctor, sounding as if he didn't quite believe what he was saying himself.

Peri shook her head vehemently. "No _way_ is _that_ a battered sausage!"

"Ye-es...

'It _is_ … Look!" The Doctor thrust it out towards her for closer inspection. "You see?

'It's got a little splint, and bandages, and everything!"

Peri studied the object in horrified fascination, unable to suppress a gulp, then looked back at the Doctor. "You're… you're not gonna _eat_ it are you?"

"No, Peri,' the Doctor sighed mournfully, dropping it back into his newspaper, and then tossing the lot into the bin by the bench. 'Sadly, I find it rather difficult to partake of a sausage that has engaged my sympathies!"

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

 _(Much Later…)_

"Are you satisfied now, Doctor?' Peri complained angrily, as she cast about for a sign of anything that she recognised. 'Thanks to your stomach, we're totally lost!"

"Oh, be fair, Perry!' he retorted, making a great show out of opening the plastic bag of goodies he had managed – at last! – to purchase. 'I'm _really_ hungry, and we haven't exactly had much luck finding anything actually edible around here!"

"We should have gone back to the Tardis – like I said in the first place! There's plenty to eat there!" Peri shot back over her shoulder unsympathetically, about to go and see what might lay around the next corner.

A cry of triumph from the Doctor halted her, and she looked back to see that he had finally opened his bag.

"I'm _bored_ of the food in the Tardis, Peri!' He whined, thrusting a hand into the bag and rummaging about. 'I wanted something _new_ and _exotic!_ Something I could _really_ get my teeth into!'

He offered Peri a crispy looking object with fingers already stained the same bright orange. 'Fancy a 'Cheezy Whatzit'?"

"What is it?"

"I have no idea…' The Doctor replied, studying the morsel with an anticipatory gleam in his eye. 'But,' he popped it into his mouth and began to crunch, 'Hmmmmm! It's _very_ 'cheezy'!" Peri momentarily forgotten, the Doctor dived back into his bag enthusiastically.

Shaking her head in disgust, Peri rolled her eyes and said, "I think I'll pass, Doctor! Given the weird ideas they have about food around here, I'm just glad you didn't ask for a bag of 'Spicy Knick-Knacks'!"

She decided that she was going to find out where they were, even if the Doctor didn't seem too concerned.

"Hmm! Hmm! Hmm!' agreed the Doctor, not having heard a word Peri said, and now blissfully unaware that his companion was stalking off without him. There was something truly remarkable about these 'Whatzit' things, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. (The bag, that is!)

Unfortunately for him, this ambition was curtailed by a piercing scream from Peri!

He was so startled that the bag seemed to explode in his hands, and bright orange crunchy things erupted all over him!

Suddenly all business once more, the Doctor rushed towards his friend with alacrity. Peri was standing stock-still at the end of the street, hands over her mouth, and a look of abject horror on her face!

Suspecting that she might be in shock, the Doctor puffed to a halt beside her and declared… "My Heaven's, Peri! It's not like _you_ to scream like that! What in the world is the matter?

'You nearly gave me a Cadillac!"

Peri removed one hand from her mouth to point a quivering finger down the next road, turning her head to stare at him, eyes wide. "It was _horrible_ , Doctor! I've never seen anything like it before!'

Her heart was hammering ten to the dozen, and she was trembling all over, but as the Doctor's words filtered through her panic, she suddenly calmed a little. "A Cadillac?" She asked in confusion.

"Hmmm..?" The Doctor enquired absently, as he fastidiously brushed orange powder from his orange coat – with orange fingers.

"You said that I nearly gave you a Cadillac!"

"Ah yes! So I did!' He snapped his fingers in exaggerated recollection, whirling around to give Peri his full attention. 'It's a Time Lord thing! Same as a Cardiac, only bigger!'

He gorilla-thumped his chest dramatically. 'Two hearts, you see!"

Peri regarded him suspiciously for a couple of beats, then rolled her eyes and 'tutted' to herself, as she began to suspect what he was doing. Squaring up to the Doctor and placing her hands on her hips, she jutted her head up accusingly.

"You just made that up, didn't you?

'To distract me!"

"Ye-es!' Smugged the Doctor. 'I di-id!'

Then he grinned at her fondly, and tapped the end of her nose. 'Worked though, didn't it?

'Now, why don't try to tell me what you saw – in a calm and rational manner."

Much as she hated to admit it, (particularly after being tapped on the nose like that!) Peri was feeling much better; her heart was no longer racing, and the trembling had subsided.

However, when she tried to follow the Doctor's suggestion, she discovered that her _tongue_ was still panicking! "The wall grew a mouth and ate him, Doctor! One of those Axololololololololololol…"

The Doctor placed a smelly finger gently to her lips. "One of those 'little blue frog things', Peri? Yes, I get the picture – I think…"

"…Alons.' Peri finished when the finger was withdrawn, and tried again. 'But it wasn't just _anyone_ , Doctor! I think it was Chirpy, the 'Cock-a-Knee Sparra' frog! He was doing that silly little dance of his!"

"And… The _wall?_ … _Ate him_ , you say?" Asked a somewhat doubtful Doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

THE FIRST TRIP

Sample Narrative

The 1st Doctor and Susan.

The room is white, seemingly sterile. Nothing mars its stark simplicity, other than a curiously mushroom-shaped mechanical control console, bristling with buttons and knobs and levers. In the center of the console, a transparent cylinder contains complex mechanisms. They are just beginning to slow their rise and fall.

Operating this machine is a dignified old man, with long white hair and patrician features.

Although he appears to be pressing buttons and pulling levers almost at random, there is an expression of intense concentration on his face.

The only other occupant is a young girl, with jet black hair and elfin features. Her willowy figure draped in a dress that leaves her shoulders bare, she is back-lit by illuminated circular indentations in the walls, and stands sobbing quietly and hugging herself.

"You're not angry with me are you, Grandfather?" She asks plaintively.

"With you, my dear? No, no, not at all!" He turns towards her from the now quiescent console, and approaches her cautiously.

"No Susan, never think that! I merely considered it wise to absent ourselves from Fulminar as soon as possible. I am sorry that the operation of this travel capsule has consumed my attention so, but I'm still familiarizing myself with our new, ah, acquisition. Hmm?" He smiles kindly at the young girl and she throws herself into his arms, unable to contain her distress any longer.

"Oh Grandfather! I don't understand what I did wrong! We seemed to be getting along so well at first! What could I have said to upset them all so much?"

The old man soothes her gently, alternately stroking her hair or patting her trembling shoulders.

"Perhaps you can remember when they became angry, hmm? We should be able to work it out from there, don't you think?" He asks kindly.

Susan steps away and tries to recover herself. "Of course, Grandfather… But I really _don't_ understand why everyone reacted so violently, it was only a conversation!

Safabrine and her friends were telling me about the creation myths of the Fulminarians, how and why life came to be, that sort of thing…"

"Ah, I think begin to see.' The old man nods, feeling a cold chill grip his hearts. 'Go on, child, please."

"Well, I was simply explaining to them that life was the result of a random combination of chemical elements, subjected to variable conditions over an _immense_ span of time, when they started screaming and throwing things at me!" Suddenly she is crying uncontrollably.

"Oh Grandfather!' Susan collapses back into the old man's arms. "If you hadn't arrived when you did, I honestly believe that they might have…"

She breaks down in tears again, unable to continue. With her head buried into her Grandfather's shoulder, Susan doesn't see the kind old man's face stiffen, his eyes filling with a murderous rage. If those savages had…

But no, he corrects himself quickly, the Fulminarians were hardly savages! As with most peoples in the Universe, they had their own deeply held belief systems, and could easily be offended if those beliefs were – questioned.

Susan, in her naïve, Gallifreyan schoolgirl innocence, had walked into a minefield with no preparation.

"My fault,' the Doctor muses to himself, still soothing his trembling granddaughter, 'it's all my fault!"


	3. Chapter 3

RELATIVELY SPEAKING

Sample Narrative

The 2nd Doctor, Ben, and Polly.

My Dad came to see me again last night.

He looked older, about the age he would actually be now if he hadn't died.

His visits trouble me.

I don't understand how he can have aged alongside me, when I don't remember the last time I saw him alive.

All have to call on are fragmented childhood memories, of a cheerful stranger that came to visit on occasion. As a child I had always accepted that.

Being a sailor in the Royal Navy, there was no space for me, for a son, in his life.

It was mum's job to run our single parent family – dad just paid the bills.

I anticipated and feared his visits, because I never knew who would actually turn up. As an adult I came to realize that I had never actually met my Father.

When he was on duty he was away at sea, and when he was off duty he was…

I'm not sure that I ever met the man when he was fully sober, but perhaps I am being unfair: perhaps my own resentments color my judgement, and possibly I have been travelling with the Doctor for too long, and I am being too clever for my own good!

Pol notices my distraction, of course. My beautiful Duchess.

I wonder if I will ever be able to tell her just how much strength her presence gives to me, how much the thought of her absence terrifies me.

Probably not.

"Are you alright, Ben?" she asks in a voice all too expressive, too full of concern.

Of course, I just give her a cheeky grin and make some wise-crack about gasping for a cup of Char.

She smiles and tells me that one day my charm will wear too thin, one day I will push her too far: but she leaves to make some tea anyway.

The Doctor gives her a hopefully cheeky grin as well, obviously keen for a cuppa himself, but she flounces past him; not even deigning to glance in his direction.

He turns a glum countenance in my direction and I feel myself bristle; what has he done to upset my beautiful duchess?

"Polly is right you know, Ben, you look awfully tired. Is there something disturbing your sleep? Is there anything I can do to help?"

His obvious sincerity disarms me, but I still cannot bring myself to trust him.

If he had been _my_ Doctor, that fussy old man who kept getting his words muddled - and often forgot what he was talking about entirely! - perhaps then, I could have believed in him.

But this - comical stranger - reminds me too much of unsupported claims and broken promises: he expects me to take him at his word, and I grew leery of being so gullible a long time ago.

Perhaps I am being unfair.

I know in my heart that this _is_ the Doctor, but trust is a difficult hill to climb, when you have to rebuild it from the ground up.

I wonder if I should tell him about my dreams, how Jackson Senior hadn't gone after all, but simply hidden away at the back of my mind, so that he could visit me and tell me about his life after death?

And then Polly comes back in with three cups of tea on a tray, and I don't have to find out whether I trust the Doctor that much or not.


	4. Chapter 4

MASS DESTRUCTION

Sample Narrative

The 4th Doctor and Leela.

Deep in thought, the Doctor strode confidently down the torch-lit corridor, seemingly oblivious of the Brobdignagion architecture surrounding him.

He also appeared totally unaware of the magnificent wall decorations, and occasional statue lurking in a niche - his attention totally focused on the yo-yo that he was happily putting through its paces.

This came to an abrupt halt when a flash of silver came _very_ close to bisecting his midriff, and the toy fell - bounced once on the floor - and then rolled off.

Right between the magnificently armored legs of a formidable looking young woman, menacing him with a sword, with several equally intimidating ladies formed up behind her.

"Ah! Hello! Would you care for a piece of string?" He offered with a polite grin, 'it's no use to me anymore, I seem to have lost my yo-yo!"

"Identify yourself!" The woman demanded in a manner that was, the Doctor felt, unnecessarily abrupt.

"Well, I'm the Doctor. Madam Leela's glamorous assistant… can't you tell?" He then unwisely tried to shake the young lady by the sword, so his "I thought you were expecting me" was somewhat muffled as he sucked his fingers.

"No _male_ may enter the presence of The Divine unsearched – remove your clothes! Now!" She demanded.

"I say, steady on Old Thing!' replied the Doctor, unconsciously falling into a Sullivanism, 'couldn't I just give you a little twirl?"

He suited actions to words and span around, but when he was once again facing the increasingly irritated officer, he found himself at the center of a ring of swords, his arms pinioned by two particularly formidable young warrior women.

" _Leave him be!"_

Leela stood framed dramatically, in a now open doorway.

She stalked rapidly towards them, her glare fixed on the lead guard. "The Doctor is mine! None may touch him without my express permission!"

Leaning in very close to the officer she added silkily, "Unless you wish to issue challenge?"

The Doctor was straightening his rumpled coat and started to say "Now ladies…", but Leela cut him off sharply.

"Be quiet, Doctor! You are expected. Winomer seeks only to insult _me_ by delaying your admittance."

To his surprise, Leela then strode up to him and _demanded_ that he hand over his hat, coat, and scarf!

"It is true that no male may enter the presence of The Devine without first being searched, Doctor." She informed him in an undertone. "However', she glared once more at Winomer 'humiliation is _not_ required."

Leela held the armful of clothing towards Winomer challengingly, and the Xirxian indicated for one of her subordinates to take it. With a tilt of her head towards Leela she asked and received permission to touch the Doctor who, after looking enquiringly at Leela, submitted to a brisk and efficient pat-down.

The intimidating Guard Commander paused once, to examine the watch in his waistcoat pocket as the Doctor explained that it was harmless, and then swiftly thrust a hand into each of his trouser pockets.

"Do you mind?' the Doctor protested in indignation, 'you won't find anything dangerous in there I can assure you!"

Winomer ignored him, and then glanced up at him sharply as one searching hand closed around something suspicious.

The Doctor shrugged innocently. "Oh! That's nothing to worry about! It's just my…' he grinned, as she pulled the object from his pocket, 'spare yo-yo. You will try not to break that one, won't you?"


	5. Chapter 5

PROFESSOR X AND THE SHARKMEN OF AQUATICA

By D. Vincent Architect

Sample Narrative

As I sit here writing this I still find it hard to accept that the Professor and my beloved wife are still alive, after all these years of believing them dead; and I find myself unsure of the best approach to take in presenting this astounding tale.

Most would say that the obvious place to start would be at the beginning, but I have experienced so many beginnings.

Perhaps I could start by introducing myself, yet that too proves problematical for reasons that will, I hope, become obvious. If my nephew has followed my instructions 'to the letter', then you are reading this after my death: so my insistence on anonymity for myself and my associates may seem somewhat moot - but you may trust that I have my reasons, and that they will become clear.

 _(Note to Nephew: If you have any sense at all young man, you will follow this example if you ever decide to publish; and I also suggest that you continue my tradition of maintaining that this is all just fiction!)_

So, Dear Reader, you may think of me as D.

Short for D. Vincent Architect, the pseudonym under which I chronicled a series of remarkable adventures, that befell my wife and myself once we came into the orbit of Dr. –

Ah, but I still cannot tell you his name…!

If you are a follower and enthusiast of fantastical fiction, you would perhaps know him as 'Professor X', the protagonist of my stories, which first came to popularity in the pages of the pulp magazines of the time.

Indeed, I suspect that very few would choose to read this yarn - if the Professor were not so prominently mentioned in the title; so I shall take the liberty of assuming that you are already familiar with the great man himself, and his companions - Adam and Joanna. (However, I should mention that although the 'Professor' I knew was portrayed in print as accurately as ability would allow, 'Adam' was considerably braver than his real-life counterpart, and 'Joanna', to my regret, was little more than a cipher. The accusations of misogyny more recently leveled at my prose of the time are unfounded nonetheless; I simply could not bring myself to breathe life back into my wife's memory, when I thought her dead.)

In many ways, my reluctance to chronicle those most truly painful events was to prove a blessing.

If I had ever been able to write of that awful night; if I had ever submitted _'The Death of Professor X'_ for publication, I have little doubt that the character's surprising (to myself, at least) longevity and popularity would have remained stillborn in pulped paper.

As it happened, some years later, I was approached to assist in adapting some of my chronicles of the Professor's adventures into Radio plays.

In time, 'Professor X' became a household name, as his stories made the transition to television.

In many ways these increasingly fictional adventures became more 'real' to me than the man I had known, even as I came to disassociate myself from the series. ("Architect stepped down to make way for writers with more imagination", I recall reading somewhere!)

However, even after these many years of retirement – I choose to think of it as 'growing older gracefully' – I have been drawn back into the bizarre existence of Professor X!

Also, much more importantly from a personal perspective – and to my undying gratitude – into the arms of my beloved wife.

It is these 'new adventures' that I propose to relate in these pages…

+++++++++++++++++ Insert line-break. ++++++++++++++++++

Last night, as I slept, I received another etheric message (or astral communication, if you prefer,) from the Professor on Aquatica.

I must return to that ocean-girt world sooner than expected! My beloved Joanna has been taken by the Sharkmen - and the notion of losing her once more cannot be contemplated!

Perhaps one day I shall continue this story, stranger things happen all the time when one associates with the Professor, but in the moment I ask your forbearance, and one thing more.

Please.

Wish me luck.

 _D. Vincent Architect, 19__


End file.
